


wonder

by katertots



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: Episode Tag: 9x01 Rattle Second City, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:48:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27606521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katertots/pseuds/katertots
Summary: He wonders what it's like to not go through life as a dumbass.Because he is a dumbass. Plain and simple.9x01 Episode Tag/Fix-it
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 27
Kudos: 154





	wonder

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, friends! The season 9 premiere was practically perfect in every way and gave us so much to be happy about. And I am ecstatic about our ship being super close to finally setting sail. However, Matt should have kissed her on the couch and we all know it. We all saw the regret on his face. That look of regret took up a large portion of my brain rent free and resulted in this.

* * *

_Right before I close my eyes  
The only thing that's on my mind  
Been dreamin' that you feel it too  
I wonder what it's like to be loved by you _

"Wonder" - Shawn Mendes

* * *

He wonders what it's like to not go through life as a dumbass.

Because he is a dumbass. Plain and simple. 

_You forgot cowardly_ , his inner voice helpfully supplies. 

Right.

He’s a _cowardly_ dumbass, which is definitely worse than your _run-of-the-mill everyday_ dumbass. 

Given his line of work, most would consider him brave. Jumping blindly off a roof before the building explodes? That he can handle. Sliding down into an elevator shaft to make a rescue? No sweat. Nutting up and acting on his feelings for Sylvie Brett, however? _Error detected: No courage to be found! Utterly spineless!_

Matt shifts on his back in a feeble attempt to get comfortable enough to sleep and frowns up at the ceiling. It isn’t the couch’s fault. In fact, he’d been perfectly comfortable on the couch earlier in the evening, having a grand ol’ time playing a game with Sylvie while they laughed their asses off. 

At the end of the night, she'd half-heartedly attempted to let him off the hook he’d willingly jumped on shortly after he arrived. But he saw through the bravado. So he blew right past it, insisting to her that he was staying the night. 

Then there was a moment after that. After Sylvie’s relieved sigh and murmured thanks. Quietly holding each other’s gaze, his heart racing as he searched for enough nerve to bridge the short distance between them and finally, finally kiss her. There’ve been similar moments over the last however many months. Moments where he felt the timing could really be right, that they were on the same page. But ultimately he’d failed to act every single time, and he was left to wonder how it would feel to take that next step with her. 

Tonight proved to be no different than all the others. Once again he’d waited a beat too long and missed his chance to seize the moment. Once more he was left wondering instead of knowing. 

See? Total cowardly dumbass. 

Acting on his feelings isn’t his forte, but he’s the heavyweight champion in stewing over them. Resigning himself to a long night of mental beratement, Matt huffs in irritation and readjusts his pillow. 

Sylvie’s bedroom door creaks open and she pads quietly past him through the living room towards the kitchen. Concern immediately kicks in and he bolts upright, kicking off the blanket, ready to spring into action if necessary. “Sylvie?”

Startled, she jumps and whirls around, hand clutched over her chest. “God, you scared me!” she scolds with a quiet laugh. She takes a couple of steadying breaths before raking that hand through her hair and dropping it to her side. “I thought you were asleep. Did I wake you?”

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says softly. “And no, you didn’t wake me. Couldn’t fall asleep. You okay? Did you hear something?” 

“No, no, nothing like that,” she waves him off. “I can’t sleep either and came out to get a glass of water. Want some?”

“Yeah, that’d be great,” he answers, watching her retreating form. 

The room is dark save for the dim, under-cabinet lighting in the kitchen filtering into the space. However, it’s more than enough to notice the miles of bare leg showing beneath her criminally tiny plaid sleep shorts. Once again he scolds himself for his inaction earlier. 

Sylvie returns with two glasses of water and hands him one. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” she replies, choosing to sit in front of him on the coffee table rather than beside him on his makeshift bed. Even though it’s her apartment, her couch, it’s like she doesn’t want to invade the space she gave him for the evening without being invited.

Little does she know just how invited she is to his life. 

Whether she realizes it or not, she’s closer to him now than she would have been sitting on the couch. It’s not a complaint, merely an observation. Again, he wonders. How would she react if he kissed her? If he told her how important she is to him? That all he wants is to spend his nights making her laugh and feel wanted the way she deserves. 

“Penny for your thoughts,” Sylvie murmurs, interrupting the spiral in his brain.

His eyes have adjusted in the dark and he can better see her now. A teasing smile flirts across her mouth. Her skin is fresh and clear of all traces of makeup. She’s never looked more beautiful. “A penny, huh? Is that still the going rate in 2020?”

“That’s how the saying goes,” she replies, nudging her bare knee playfully against his. Her smile takes a bashful turn, and she drops her eyes to the glass she’s holding. She sighs and worries her bottom lip between her teeth. Matt doesn’t know what to make of that. He’s a man and therefore stupid sometimes—a lot of times—but if suddenly feels like he’s upset her somehow. Then she lifts her gaze again and meets his head on before speaking again. “Truth is, Matt—I’d pay top dollar to know how you really feel sometimes.” 

Matt is a lot of things, but a big believer in signs has never been one of them. Sylvie’s words, however, feel like a flashing neon arrow pointing to an even brighter neon sign that reads _THIS IS YOUR CHANCE DUMBASS! DON’T BLOW IT!_ He sets down his glass on a coaster beside her on the coffee table and searches for what to say. He wonders what’s right in this moment. This moment that’s been building for so long. Before he can open his mouth, Sylvie continues speaking.

“I can’t figure it out, you know?” she starts, tucking an errant stand of hair behind her ear. “We spend all this time together, and sometimes I think we’re on the verge of...well, I don’t know— _something_. Then nothing changes, so I convince myself that it’s all in my head, that you help me because you’re a good person. But I can’t keep losing sleep _wondering_ , Matt. I’m—”

Matt cuts her off this time. Lunging forward on the couch, he wraps a hand around the back of her head and pulls her in for a kiss. It’s not particularly gentle, and it’s probably lacking finesse, but he’s too spun up over her and wound tighter than a drum. Blood roaring in his ears, he pours himself into this kiss with Sylvie Brett that he’s wondered over for longer than he can remember. 

When he breaks the kiss, he pulls back just as quickly as he’d started, scrubbing a hand over his face. Sylvie’s eyes are wide and shocked, her lips slightly parted and plumped by his kiss. He swallows thickly around the lump in his throat as he searches her face. She looks away and sets her glass down with a thud on the coffee table. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t what—”

Sylvie brackets his face with her hands and cuts him off with a shake of her head and a lopsided smirk that makes the adorable dimple pop in her cheek. “Shut up, Matt Casey, and kiss me again!” 

Bolder now, he wraps his hands around her narrow waist and pulls her into his lap. He grins up at Sylvie, an odd mix of relief and desire coursing through his veins knowing she wants this, too. “With pleasure, mate!” 


End file.
